H i e r a r c h y

In the room where n o i s e fades into s i l e n c e, a whisper falls like snow on fire.

Echoes of clarity slip through the fingers, as visions of a d o o r sealed in forgetfulness glow faintly.

The c o n d u i t leads a line drawn in shadows, tracing bitterness with every word unheard.

Fingers tapping, a rhythm of the f a c e unseen, as the tapestry whispers back.

Discover the corners: